Bump in the Road
by theAkuRokuFaNaTiC
Summary: When Iris Allen found out that she was going to be a mother, she didn't realize all the obstacles that came along with pregnancy. Of course, when she saw the faces of her beautiful children and her loving husband, she would never have it any other way. BarryXIris fluff.


To say that Iris West-Allen (the last part of that name still made her giggle like a punch drunk teenager at a slumber party) was uncomfortable would be a _tad _bit of an understatement. No, definitely some sort of sub-zero statement that had no relevance to the statement at hand. Apparently, pregnancy was some beautiful punishment designed to make a poor woman spend extra money because her shoes are way too tight, and she really doesn't want to buy maternity clothes, but her pencil skirts seem to literally _dig _into her stomach, and that can_not _be good on the baby.

But Barry was very nice about it. He had a good job, and hers wasn't bad, either (not too bad at all when she got her private interviews with the Flash), so a few extra articles of clothing did hardly anything to either of their paychecks.

The discomfort wasn't too bad. Iris managed, anyway. Perhaps she did a bit of standing on her job, maybe more than should be allowed, but the redhead did take her downtime whenever she was quite certain that Barry was done saving the day and was in no immediate danger. Sure, Iris's back hurt like no other, and her already-swelled feet did nothing to help the situation (especially with the high-heels that _she _wore), but if she could watch her irresponsible husband for at _least _a couple hours, then the pain was totally worth it.

The mood swings were bearable. For Iris, anyway. Truthfully, the ginger wasn't too sure how Barry or Wally held up with the constant nagging (which was actually a normal occurrence), and the yelling, and the crying when the abused animals and starving children commercials popped up on television. Eventually, Barry managed to convince Iris to simply stop watching the television and start scrap-booking.

Iris _hated _scrap-booking. But - even she had to admit this one - the cravings were pretty terrible. Fish was a no-no, even though Iris wanted _nothing_ more than a pizza topped off with sardines (even Wally found that one disgusting). She settled with chocolate-covered bacon. After all, she argued with her skeptic of a husband, people actually did make money selling that amazing delicacy.

Yes, the Flash ate a lot, but there was something about bacon that he could just never get behind.

Perhaps the worst, most terrible thing about pregnancy was the morning sickness. Not just a bit of nausea to accompany her morning cup of green tea (because apparently caffeine was wrong for fetuses, too), but full-out expulsion of those buttery crackers that Iris had grown so fond of. She had to admit, the crackers became less of an attachment or more of an acquaintance, considering she saw every cracker twice.

"Once going in, once going out!" Wally had laughed. For a couple seconds, Iris laughed along with her nephew; the two gingers were just sitting in the bathroom giggling. It wasn't until Iris noticed that the teen was perched comfortably on her nice, clean counter, while she knelt by the toilet giving up her precious and pathetically wasted breakfast, that the redheaded woman began to cry. Iris didn't sob - that would be beneath her; no, the reporter simply allowed her shoulders to slump and let a few loose tears run down her cheeks.

The only thing crying accomplished - Iris's mascara (the same mascara that took ten minutes to apply, not counting the four minutes it took to reapply her eye make-up after she poked herself in the eye with the mascara wand) ran. Ran like a hunter that just caught sight of an albino Bambi.

Needless to say, Wally freaked, absolutely freaked, and called his uncle, who ran home faster than Iris could wipe her eyes. The blonde man was awkward in comforting his wife, but it was still appreciated, nontheless.

"Do you want to stay home today?" Barry asked, so sweetly. Shaking her head, Iris allowed her husband to help her up; Barry kept a firm hand to the small of Iris's back until he was sure that she was steadied. Even so, Barry's green eyes held a certain sort of worry that the ginger woman chose to ignore. She was, after call, carrying _his _seed. The least he could do was care a little less.

The last thought made Iris furrow her brow in confusion. Sometimes, even _she_ didn't understand her own pregnancy-addled mind.

"Honey, you're sort of pale," the blonde man observed.

"No way!" Iris replied sarcastically, "I'm only a redheaded woman that sunburns on _cloudy _days."

Wally had chosen long ago to leave the room. That was why that boy had good grades - he was smart, knew when to get out. Barry, on the other hand, may be a _forensics scientist_, but that man never knew when to step out of a room, or even a conversation, for that matter.

"Okay, Iris, I know you're uncomfortable, but you...I mean...never mind...continue."

Glaring, Iris only turned to the bathroom counter and began searching for her mascara. Occasionally, she would glance at her husband out of the corner of her eyes; she decided that Barry was only trying to help, and he really shouldn't have been skipping out on his job. She couldn't be too mad at the man who treated her like royalty.

"I could run you to work," Barry offered.

"No, you couldn't! That plan has two flaws, honey. One, Barry Allen's running just like the Flash. Oh my gosh, he must be the Flash. Secondly, what will that do to the baby? I mean, I know babies are pretty tough, but that's a little excessive, don't you think?"

The blonde laughed and nodded, pulling his wife in for a kiss to the top of her head. "You think of everything, huh?"

"I have to. You obsess over everything."

It was decided that Barry would simply drive his lovely wife to work himself, so that he wouldn't have to worry about Iris making it safely. Sure, it exasperated the ginger a bit, but it also warmed her heart that Barry bothered himself into a _tad _bit of a frenzy. The pair arrived at the GBS building, and Iris leaned over to grant her husband a quick kiss on the cheek before heading out of the car. She fought off a quick wave of nausea and offered Barry a weak wave before walking through the rotating doors.

Man, she loved those things.

The first half of the day was rather boring, actually. Iris spent her time at her computer, finishing up some useless articles that stupid Sarah, who sat across from the ginger, forgot to type. Instead, the woman sat at her desk, filing her nails, while her chestnut brown curls bounced up and down with each flick of her hand. Behind her back, Iris would admit to making a few choice faces, but she could easily blame her "rudeness" - as Bill from the copy room nervously referred to it - on her hormones that her husband inadvertently _implanted _in her.

Just as Iris was finishing up a riveting article on "Top 10 Pigeon Playgrounds", her phone buzzed.

_Captain Cold, Flash, Story._

This was shorthand for, "Captain Cold is stealing money from a bank (or something to that effect - he never was very creative), and the Flash is obviously going to stop him; get your story and your interview, because you always manage a one-on-one session, you silly slut, you." The last part was a bit of improvisation, but Iris got the hint that Pete was trying to get at. Editors were always either very boring or very witty.

Pete was witty.

Pressing the "Print" button on her computer, Iris hopped up (or the same thing as hopping for a pregnant woman) and handed the fresh sheet of paper to stupid Sarah and her beautifully tanned skin. The woman smiled and took the news story, skimming over the pages with a satisfied look. "Thanks so much, Iris," Sarah said, not unkindly. Iris returned the smile and practically raced out the door, suddenly cursing herself for wearing high heels.

After a short elevator ride, Iris met the GBS van outside the revolving doors and allowed her cameraman to assist her in getting into the vehicle. The ride to the scene wasn't very long at all, though it felt like an eternity for Iris. She never worried about herself whenever she covered a news story. But, and she always had to remind herself as she watched the Flash struggle against the villain of the week, Barry was always in danger. One misstep, one underestimation, and the Flash was as powerless as Batman without his utility belt.

As the Flash, Barry had to be alert to everything. He had to determine how many steps he was going to take every time he shot off at the speed of light. There was a certain limit Barry had to put on himself, and both he and every villain in Central City knew it. And Iris knew it. And she worried.

Luckily, Captain Cold wasn't a very strong opponent. He and Barry were having a stare-down, an unspoken battle of the mind. Always, without fail, Barry always gave his enemies a chance to step down.

No one ever took it, though.

Captain Cold, clad in his white and blue jacket, held his freeze gun, pointed directly at Barry; the man's hands shook as he aimed directly at the Flash's chest. Iris felt her breath catch in her throat. Barry was fast enough, she knew, but what if he didn't think quickly enough? What if he couldn't? What if he was too worried about the safety of the city? What if he forgot how to run? What then?

Almost imperceptibly, Barry glanced over in Iris's direction. His mouth was a thin line, as if to yell at Iris for even being _near _a scene so dangerous. The ginger woman, however, also gave a disapproving glare of her own. She wanted to smack her husband, but that would have to wait until the police could incapacitate Captain Cold.

Barry returned his gaze to Captain Cold, who looked straight at Iris. A smile formed on his face, as he tightened his grip on his gun. He turned it towards Iris's direction and laughed. He said something to Barry, but Iris couldn't even hear over the sound of the buzzing in her ears. She was in serious danger, she knew, but her feet didn't seem to work anymore. This was bad, very bad, because Barry had the same shocked expression on his face.

There was a flash of light, and Iris felt the ground leave her feet. Something lifted her, a Flash of red, and she wasn't sure whether the sudden pain in her arm was from her hitting something against it, or something else. Just as she finally caught a glimpse of Barry's face, looking straight ahead for a safe place for his wife, Iris realized that her hand was throbbing, cold and hot at the same time, and the pain was getting more intense. She noticed that Barry's shoulder had traces of ice caked on it, and the ginger could see the look of discomfort that crossed his features. They were going so fast, Iris decided, that everything else in the world was taking its time catching up to her.

The pain was getting worse. Her hand felt heavy, as did her head. She could feel herself shaking, and she knew that Barry could feel her, too, if the way his face shot down to look at her meant anything. Iris moved her head slightly to get a better look at her husband, but the edges of her vision began to blacken.

"Iris," Barry practically whispered. That, or he was starting to fade out. Iris didn't feel like responding, so she let her head fall back onto the blonde's chest. She didn't notice the way Barry abruptly stopped, shook her (shook her _twice_, she would later learn), and raced toward the on-site paramedics.

: :

When the world finally returned to Iris, the ginger lifted her heavy head off a pillow that she didn't even realize was under her. She glanced around and saw a _very _worried-looking Barry Allen staring at her. He was no longer the Flash; he was just Barry, dressed in his usual sweater vest with a snazzy button-up under it. Iris smiled wearily, wondering where she even was, and practically screamed when she subsequently remembered.

"What happened?" she asked quickly, glaring at her husband when he chuckled.

"Captain Cold tried to kill you. Or bother me. I'm not sure. But he managed to get you with that stupid freeze gun of his." Barry gestured towards her left hand, and Iris gasped when she noticed how...blue...it looked. "The color will return to normal soon, honey. Don't worry; no amputations."

"I wasn't even _considering _an amputation, you idiot! What about you? Are you okay? Your shoulder?"

The blonde smiled. "Yeah, that hurt a bit. But I heal quickly, so we're o-" Iris cut Barry off by attacking the man in a hug.

"You don't get to worry me like that," she whispered menacingly.

The shocked (and offended) look that crossed Barry's face was kind of hilarious. "Me? You're the pregnant one that tried to get herself killed! Honey, if you were Hal, I'd strangle you. As it is, you're the mother of my child, and I love you, and - and I'm not that kind of guy, I swear! It's just...you make my head hurt sometimes..." the blonde finished lamely as he took Iris's hand in his own larger ones. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

: :

"I _hate _you!" Iris screamed at her loudest as she gave push after painful push. The doctor told her to continue, but the redhead was quite certain that she would kill herself if she tried any harder. "Barry Allen, I am going to _murder _you!"

Said blonde man was hiding behind a much shorter nurse; he smiled sheepishly and waved at his sweaty and disheveled wife. "I love you, too, honey."

"Oh, don't talk to me!"

The doctor, an older man with kind blue eyes, asked Iris to try pushing once more. She did as told, all the while cursing her husband to a lifetime of solitude with Hal Jordan and his terrible pick-up lines.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, there was a high-pitched cry, and Iris could see the doctor lift a red-faced baby into his arms. He handed the infant off to a nurse and smiled. "Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Allen. It's a boy."

The two in question smiled like fools. Barry couldn't decide whether to look at his wife, or his baby, or to thank the doctor for everything, or to...

Barry chose to watch the very nice nurse after he and Iris were informed that there was another baby to be born. The ginger woman cried and screamed and told Barry that not only would he be spending eternity with Hal, but also with Bruce Wayne without his daily three cups of coffee. Barry whimpered at that last threat.

She was never going to have babies _ever _again, she decided. Never ever ever ever ever ev-

"This one's a girl."

Iris giggled like a little girl, and Barry's green eyes were wide with wonder and amazement, and they were the luckiest parents in the world. The redhead looked at the blonde, and the two looked at their beautiful babies. _Their _beautiful babies. To Iris, her baby boy was going to be so much like Barry, her son's amazing dad with the gentlest touch and the most genuine smile. To Barry, his daughter was going to be beautiful like her mother; she would be strong and opinionated and kind.

This little boy would be brave and handsome. Barry's little princess would be smart and compelling.

He would be absent-minded at times. She would be stubborn.

He would be great at science. She would be the best public speaker.

He might be valedictorian. She'd make a beautiful homecoming queen.

He'd love like no other. She'd make some man the happiest guy in the world.

Iris looked at Barry and smiled. If her son could be anything like Barry, if he could just have Barry's laugh, he would be the most incredible man in the world.

Barry returned the gaze and grinned like a fool. If his daughter was anything like Iris, she would be able to see through anyone with one glance.

Once he finally got a moment to just stare at his wife, to just look at this wonderful woman like she was just perfect (and she was), Barry decided that nothing could ever be more wonderful than this moment. He looked at Iris, at his son, at his daughter like they were the most beautiful things in the world.

(Barry might later regret this quiet revelation three weeks later, when Iris is yelling at him, and the twins are crying, and he just wants to crawl in a corner and cry. But for now, this moment is perfect.)

**A.N.: Okay, so I still love this pairing. More than anything. And they're not all that popular, and that is the most upsetting thing in the world. But yeah, I hope you guys enjoyed this. I'd love to do more of the couple. Much more. *creepy stare***

**Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice, or the Flash comics. I don't own Barry Allen or Iris West-Allen, or Wally, or the twins, or anything in the DC universe. But I love them. So much.**


End file.
